Cusco-Machu Picchu

la foto

On the way, we passed small primitive villages with children fishing by the river banks and men working the fields just like the Inca have did of times long past as well as ancient Inca trails, terraced hillside.  Stone Sentinels – We passed Inca military outposts that kept track of visitors on their way to Macchu Picchu as they hugged the mountain sides.

The following day we boarded a train to MAcchu Picchu the citadel of the Inca civilization.  We rode the iron horse descending through the narrow valley floor.  It descended gently through the country side. We were afforded superb views of the cascading white waters, steep mountains and the verdant agricultural country side. The town we embraced is called Aguas Caleintes or warm waters.  This town lies deep in the valley below the ancient ruins of the Incas and is enclosed by incredible steep and towering walls of stone and forests all shrouded in a mist of clouds and rain cover.

My breath was taken away when I saw Macchu Picchu, It is a citadel, a city for the chosen and ceremonies.

These Incas toiled for million of hours building this magnificent temple on top of a steep walled mountain, voluptuously covered in verdant molt-vegetative species. It is situated on top of an 11,000 foot mountain. The citadel consisted of temples, homes, terraced gardens and meeting places.  This place of worship was built to perfection with no written language or iron or steel to precision cut the ceremonial stone works.  The exceptional high quality of stone work is monumental and how it was constructed is perplexing to say the least.  There are quite a number of burial sites here.  These Inca people gave their lives to their gods and the Inca king.  These palaces are similar to visiting Angkor Wat

In the town of Agues Caleintes – this is the town from which we visitied Machu Picchu as Macchu Picchu is closed at dusk. ,  Missy and I were walking home one night when the silent moon peaked its nose above the steep mountains cliffs that surrounded our sleepy town. Its cast its silvery moonbeams on the raging river as it pummeled its way through our sleepy town.  Angry waves cut into the stone banks of the mountain sentinels and tossed large river boulders about in playful exercise.

The river was roiling and angry and it sounded like a division of army battle tanks as they passed through enemy lines.

We also watched the silver horses plant down radiant moonbeams on the opposing mountains. It was an eerie sight to behold. The mountains were a washed in pewter, not sunshine nor darkness, not awake nor asleep, it was if they were in a neither world a purgatory like state.  Back at the hotel and in my room which was cantilevered over the river, it shook from the power of the maddened river which angerly flowed beneath me.

Machu Picchu




To Close the trip we traveled by train to Ollantaytambo and then by bus Lake Titcaca.


 From Macchu Picchu we traveled to Lake Titicaca by bus with a layover in Cusco.  We rode the iron horse for more than ten tedious hours over the silver macadam highway to the horizon only to find another. The highway weaves its way through the high 13,000 foot verdant valley and threads its way between the high mountains that rise to the blue sky above. Voluminous cotton ghosts ships sailed to the horizon in the azure firmament above us. They moved without moving and are silent like sentinels of the night.  The valley unfolded before us and is covered in green sage, ancient grass lands and mixed wild flowers ranging from bright yellows to crimson reds.

The area reminds me of the high chaparral.  The area is sparsely populated and very poor in monetary wealth.  The homes are small and made from adobe mud block.  These people have no running water, yet they are happy in their life.  The grasslands go to infinity and everything is covered in this water color of green sage.  The mountains rise to 21,000 feet and shine and reflect a bright white light as they are capped in heavenly snow.  Glaciers fall down from the summits above and melt forming streams that cascade off mountain sides.  The streams are rushing to meet the dark brown chocolate rivers as they snake their way through the high plains following us in the iron horse all they way to the lake.

As we were riding, a young child dashed out in front of the bus and we had to swerve to miss her ( probably missed her by less that an inch.) I do not know how we missed her- in doing this we ran off the road and the road was banked on a downward sloping bank.  The bus could have gone over but it did not.  At that speed someone should have been killed.  We all thanked God for saving the girl and ourselves.